Game of Hearts
by Spicy Tuna Fish Chopper
Summary: Fleeing from a life she does not want, Tarrine heads to Winterfell disguised as a young man, hoping to find work and ends up heading to the Wall as a recruit. There, she meets Jon Snow and starts falling for him. But will she be able to keep her secret, or risk losing her life in the process.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones. I just started watching the show, so I apologize if I get anything wrong. Please be kind if something I wrong and tell me what. I am only about half way through the first season and I thought if this fanfic. Please enjoy!**

I ran through the streets, black hair streaming behind me as me thin legs carried me farther and farther from the whorehouse. I could hear my mother's screams but I refused to look back. I wanted to see the palace. I moved quickly through the streets, occasionally startling a passing pedestrian. Guards barely noticed me as they patrolled the streets. I could see the castle gates up ahead. I ducked under a precarious stall, dodging towards the gates.

"Whoa there," a guard held his arm across my path as I was about to cross the portcullis. I pouted, stumbling back a few steps.

"Where are you going?" the other guard inquired, keeping his hand firmly placed on the hilt of his long sword. I pointed at the castle behind them. They exchanged amused looks.

"You cannot enter the castle. No public access," he explained. I crossed my arms angrily.

"But—"

"Tarrine!" I looked over my shoulder, spotting my mother running towards her.

"Is this your daughter?"

"Yes, sir. I am sorry, she got away from me," she explained.

"Hey wait a minute. I know you. You're one of Little Finger's whores, aren't you?" the other guard asked. She nodded, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't call her that!" I shouted. The guards laughed.

"You have a kid?"

"Yes." My mother gripped my shoulders tightly and steered me away from the castle gates and back towards our home in the brothel.

"Momma?"

The dark-haired woman looked down. "Yes, darling?"

"Why can't I see the castle?" I demanded. The woman sighed, pushing the wooden doors of the concrete building open, heading across the tiny square within towards the apartments for the workers.

"No one is allow into the castle without an audience with the King," she explained, unlocking the room. I frowned, sitting on my bed.

"But why? Doesn't King Robert want to meet his people?"

"Of course he does, but the King is a very busy man and doesn't have time to see everyone," she replied, crouching in front of me.

"Kalie," a reddish-bond woman poked her head into the room, tapping lightly on the door.

"Baelish needs you. He says you're working tonight," she said.

"Okay Mhaegen," she said. "Tell him I'll be there in a minute." Mhaegen exited quickly, leaving Kalie kneeled before me again.

"Don't give me that look," Kalie begged, stroking my hair.

"Do you have to go work tonight?" I whispered. Kalie sighed and then kissed my forehead.

"I'll be back before you know it," she mumbled, keeping her lips pressed against my skin before rising. She strode out of the room, casting a final glance over her shoulder before closing the door behind her and locking on. I screwed her eyes shut and shoved my hands against my ears, trying to block out the sounds of people having sex in the building around me, pretending my mother was not one of them.

* * *

_Ten years later…_

I move through the dark brothel, listening to the moans and groans coming from behind each closed door. I grip my bag tightly, waiting for Little Finger to exit his brothel. I know his schedule perfectly. Every night, he leaves for a private counsel meeting as dusk falls, leaving his girls to work before returning about two hours later. I crouch against a banister, partially hidden behind a cupboard, watching Peytr Baelish move through his office carefully, grabbing the occasional paper and adding it to his load.

The brown-haired man finally exits, shutting the brothel door behind him. I count to ten under my breath and rise. None of the doors screech as if they are about to be opened and I rush to the front door. I edge the door open and look out. Little Finger is a few streets away and I can still pick him out in the crowd, disappearing into the dying sunlight. I move outside, slinging my pack over my shoulder and walk in the opposite direction. Passing carefully through Cobbler's Square, I pause at a local inn. I creep to the horse stalls around back, spotting the stable boy dozing in the hayloft. I grin and rush forward. The horse closest to me is a large dapple gray, staring at me curiously. It stays quiet as I lead it out and saddle the creature. I mount quickly and point the horse towards the city walls. I click my tongue and jab my heels into the horse's side. It leaps forward and charges down the main road.

I stay low on the horse's back until King's Landing is out of sight. I release a breath of relief and finally allows the horse to slow to a walk. The animal breaths heavily, sweat beading on its neck.

"Thank you, my friend," I say, patting its neck. The skin quivers beneath my touch. The Kingsroad stretches out before me, vast and empty. I pull a cloak from my bag, wrapping it around my shoulders as a cold wind develops, biting into my skin. I urge the horse to keep moving, hoping to find shelter before dark.

Night falls quickly on the plains. I doze in the saddle, letting the horse carry me forward aimlessly. I jolt awake as a troop of riders stampede past us, frightening my horse.

"Whoa there," I say, rubbing the gray horse's neck to calm up. A large building catches my eye up ahead. I smile, recognizing the Crossroads Inn my mother told me about. I continue a little farther up the road and leave the mount, returning on foot to the inn. The inn is settled on the banks of a river, hidden by trees and bushes along the banks. I take a few shaking breathes before entering. The main room is filled with bodies, primarily those of men. They are all dirty, tried, and drinking. I pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders as their eyes begin racing over my body. A middle-aged woman moves around the room, serving food and drinks to them all.

"Looking for something, girl?" the woman asks, passing by.

"Are you the innkeeper?" I ask.

The woman nods. "I'm Masha. What do you need?"

"A room for the night."

"Where are you headed?" Masha asks.

"Winterfell." The woman laughs, gesturing for me to follow. We move past the dining room and into a quieter part of the inn.

"What on earth are you going there for? A pretty girl like you is better off in King's Landing," Masha says. She unlocks a room at the end of the corridor, farthest from the stairs.

"I am not looking for work," I say softly to Masha's back as the woman disappears into the hall. I look around the small room. There is a single bed, a table with a mirror and chair and window facing the river. I sigh, dropping my things on the bed and light a candle on the table. It gives off an eerie glow as I remove a dagger from my bag. I sit toward, staring at myself in the mirror. My long locks fall well past my breasts, almost to my hips. Little Finger didn't like his girls cutting their hair and even though I didn't work for him, I kept my hair long too. I hold the blade up, inspecting it closely. With a deep breath, I grab a handful of hair and start sawing.

After twenty minutes of arduous sawing motions, I look down. A halo of black hair surrounds me. My arms ache and my hands shake violently. I throw the knife down and then dare myself to look in the mirror. I gasp, almost laughing at my appearance. My dark brown hair sticks out at odd angles, some portions longer than others from my uneven cutting, but looks like a man's. Placing the knife on the table, I smile faintly, gingerly running my fingers through my hair. It feels strange, light as though a heavy burden has been lifted.

I strip off my dress, folding it over in my arms, shoving it back into my bag. I remove a set of men's clothes, stolen from Little Finger's closet. I take a long strip of cloth, binding my chest tightly before pulling the shirt on over it. I yank on the breeches, tying a belt around my waist and then look at myself in the mirror. I roll my eyes and pull the waist jacket over my arms and close it snuggly over my chest. I replace the knife in my bag and crawl on to the bed. I rest lightly atop the covers, trying not to disturb them. I stare at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in with my eyes. My eyelids grow heavier and heavier until they close and I drift to sleep.

* * *

My eyes fly open. Dawn is rising and I need to go. I grab my things, smooth out the bed covers and climb out the window. I have no money so I flee down the road, spotting my mounts hidden in the trees. The horse continues to graze as I sprint towards it, jumping into the saddle. I snap the reins and the horse leaps forward, carrying us down the road. Winterfell is still days away from where I am, but I keep kicking at the horse to move forward. I need to reach Winterfell. It's my last hope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own GoT. I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. Please keep reading and feel free to R&R! Okay, for people who are confused: This takes place in almost a parallel universe. Lady Stark has not left for King's Landing yet because the assassination attempt hasn't happened yet. Word of Bran's recovery has not yet reached the Lannisters since Tyrion is still at the Wall. Let us continue…**

I see the walls of Winterfell over the hills. I sigh with relief, gripping the horse's neck for dear life as it carries my forward. I ran out of food and water two days ago. Hunger roars through my stomach as the horse stops short of the main entrance, waiting patiently. Soldiers dressed in thick furs look down from the towers, shouting unintelligible words to one another. I moan in pain, remaining folded over my horse. The two soldiers manning the entrance sprint towards me and guide the horse inside. A tall, regal woman awaits me in the square, her long dark hair billowing in the wind.

"Bring him inside," she orders. They carefully pull me off my horse and carry me behind her.

"Bring me wine," she says, gesturing for the men to lay me down on a bed. One sets me down while the other sprints away. She settles next to me, smiling faintly.

"I am Lady Catelyn Stark. Who are you?" she asks softly.

"Water," I croak. The guard quickly returning, bearing a pitcher and a copper cup. I drink the liquid eagerly, feeling the wine burn my throat as it goes down, but my thirst slowly dies with it.

"Better?" Lady Stark inquires. I nod. She smiles and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Who are you? Where are you from? Why have you come to Winterfell?" she questions.

"I am Tarrin, my Lady," I lie quickly. I force my voice into a deeper octave, hoping I don't slip up or it doesn't crack. "I am from King's Landing. I am heading for the Wall, but I ran out of food."

"Welcome Tarrin." A tall, handsome man enters the room, dressed in the Stark crest and a thick black cloak with a badger skin around the neck. He looks at me closely and then at the woman.

"Mother, who is this?" I blink. This must be Robb Stark, the eldest of the Stark children. My mother, while prepping me for me escape from Little Finger's brothel, had me memorize the names of all the Stark children, should I need their help.

"This boy was starved and dehydrated when the guards brought him in," she explains.

"Who are you?" he asks, directing the question at me. I clear my throat quickly, trying to sit up a little straighter.

"Tarrin, my Lord." My voice still sounds strange.

"And where are you from, Tarrin?"

"King's Landing, my Lord," I reply.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"The Wall. Looking for work," I say, and then quickly add 'my Lord'. He chuckles.

"Very well. Welcome to Winterfell. Stay here until you get your strength back then you can travel to the Wall with another group of recruits headed there in a fortnight," he announces. I nod gratefully.

"Thanks, my Lord," I say. He nods in return and strides out. Suddenly, the door flies open again as a large, white-haired man enters, carrying a boy. He can't be but ten, maybe eleven, winter's old. A large wolf follows them in, obedient as though it is a well trained dog. Lady Stark beams at the child, rising up to kiss his head.

"Who is this Mother?" he asks. My eyes widen. Bran Stark. I did not know he could not walk. I look at his legs curiously as they dangle uselessly over the large man's right arm. The boy grins at me and orders his man to carry him closer.

"Hello," he says, peering down at me.

"Hello," I say in return.

"Hodor, lower," he orders. The man kneels, bringing the boy to eyelevel with me.

"Do you know how to ride?"

I cough in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Ride. You know, a horse. I'm going to learn again with a special saddle designed by Tyrion Lannister," he rambles.

"Yes, I know how to ride," I state.

"Good. Mother, can he and I go riding?" Bran demands. Lady Stark shakes her head.

"Not today, my dearest. Tarrin needs to rest and get his strength back," she tells him. Bran shrugs and orders Hodor to carry him away. The wolf trots after them, keeping its eyes trained on his master. I lay against the pillows more peacefully when Lady Stark finally exits. The thirst is gone but my hunger, however, remains. It is somewhat tamed but still violent, causing my stomach to growl and groan occasionally. I force myself to shut my eyes and sleep. I doze off, listening to the sounds of life outside the window.

* * *

A loud knock wakes me and I sit up quickly. A man enters, a small beard growing from his chin. He is dressed similarly to Robb Stark.

"Lady Stark asks if you are well enough to join the Stark family for supper," he asks. I raise my eyebrows slightly. Clearly, he is not one of the Stark children and is unhappy being forced to summon me.

"Yes."

"My Lord," he corrects.

"I apologize," I say. "My lord." He nods stiffly and strides out. I rise quickly and sway on my feet, feeling lightheaded from my hunger. The man waits in the corridor, tapping his foot impatiently. As soon as he sees me, he walks away, gesturing for me to follow. I jog after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides. We come to a large dining room. Lady Stark, Robb, and Bran all sit around the table.

"Tarrin," Lady Stark greets. "How do you feel?"

"Better," I say. She smiles and gestures for me to sit across from her. The man who led me here takes the empty seat to the left of the head of the table, where Robb sits.

"Where is Lord Stark?" I ask curiously.

Lady Stark's smile disappears. "He is in King's Landing, acting as the King's Hand for a little. Sansa and Arya are also with him."

"Oh. I did not know," I say, bowing my head. She waves away my concern and plasters a fake smile on her face.

"He will be home soon. There's nothing to worry about," she insists. I nod in agreement.

"How old are you?" I look up sharply, meeting the intense gaze of the man who led me here.

"Theon!" Robb scolds.

"What? I am wondering how old Tarrin is. He looks very young. Doesn't even have a beard yet but intends to travel to the Wall to join the Night's Watch, from what I've heard and travels alone. Doesn't he seem a little young?" Theon argues.

"I agree," Lady Stark muses. "How old are you?"

"Erh…Eighteen."

"Really?" Robb asks, the astonishment very apparent in his voice.

"Yes," I snap. "What does it matter? Why do you think my father sent me up here? I'm an embarrassment to him. Eighteen with the face of a child." I breathe hard from all the lies spilling from me. It's a good excuse, I guess, for now, but how long will it hold. Everyone at the table looks down at their plates awkwardly for a few moments before eating again.

"Sorry," Theon mumbles.

"It's fine," I say softly.

"Why the Wall though?" Bran asks.

"Stories mainly. My father and mother told me amazing stories of the Wall and the creatures that lay behind it. And frankly, I really have nowhere else to go," I tell him. Bran smiles and bites viciously into a hunk of bread.

"Do you think you will be ready to travel with the men traveling in two weeks?" Lady Stark inquires politely. I nod vigorously, downing another cup of wine. I feel my head beginning to swim, but I've never been so thirsty in my life and there's never been so much to drink.

"Hopefully so will my horse." They all laugh at my joke. I smile to myself, pleased that I am finally fitting in with these people.

After supper is over, Lady Stark accompanies me back to my room, chatting amicably about her life in Winterfell and about her children. As I enter, she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"When you go to the Wall, will you tell Jon that we miss him?" she asks. I nod. She smiles and turns away, disappearing down the long hallway. I close the door.

**Note: Please R&R and I hope you enjoyed!**


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